Who Do You Love Are You Sure?
by SensuallyPassionate
Summary: Phil navigates through intense emotions as he struggles to find his place and purpose within his own life and in the lives of the people he loves. Final Installment to my series centered around the characters.
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**

 **Chapter theme song: "Lost in Japan" (Remix)- Shawn Mendes ft. Zedd**

I clutched my jacket closer to my frame in a weak effort to ebb the early winter breeze of Tokyo. I was exhausted from flying over nineteen hours across the big pond and the last thing I wanted, let alone needed, was to catch pneumonia while on my impromptu, last minute vacation. These past few months have been hell for me and as much as I am strong-willed, I needed to get away from the commotion going on at home with my family.

My mom and dad are planning divorce. Although not surprising, it was still a bit of a shock to have my father announce it at a formal dinner with my mom, myself, and Chuckie's, Tommy's, and Angelica's people. My mom was making a huge fuss over my dad wanting a salad with salmon instead it eating steak alongside her. She jokingly called him a pussy and some other derogatory names I care not to mention before he threw his napkin down, standing full height to announce he was seeing a coworker and filed for divorce. The table went silent and what was once a friendly, peace-making dinner as a way to bridge our families back to a good place turned into a chaotic mess. My mother almost killed my father when she stabbed him in the chest with a steak knife; Kira, Charlotte, and DiDi having to pull her off him Stu and Chaz called for help.

Thankfully my dad chose not to press charges and insisted to law enforcement he "tripped'. With Lillian out the country in Iceland, there was no reason for me to stay in that hell hole of a home surrounded by never ending drama. I no longer needed to try and protect her from our mother and her growing drug addiction. So I did what any sane college kid would do in situations of turmoil and grief, I ran.

 _Here. - Sent 3:17pm_

I put my phone back in my pocket and exited the plane. I took out the miniature bottle of complimentary tequila from the flight, downing it in record time. I felt that slight burning of the alcohol racing down my throat and felt that friendly warmth encase me in a long, overdue hug. I went through customs and gathered my bags when she replied.

 _I'm outside the terminal marked "Arrivals" holding a large sign with your name on it, babe.- Kenya_

I smirked, hoping she would be joking but knew that would be a joke in itself. I know Kenya and she is just as extravagant, spontaneous, and flamboyant as they come. It were those very qualities that initially attracted me to her aside from her striking beauty.

"Phil!" I heard her voice ring out as I was met with the bright lights and sounds of Narita airport. I found her easily and smiled widely. Sure enough, she had a big ass sign.

I enveloped her in a long hug, pulling away gently kiss her softly. There was a small shutter and flash of a camera cell phone next to us. She smiled. "I missed you."

"I missed you more." I spoke lowly, still holding her beautiful body against my muscular one. "It's been awhile since I seen you."

"You are the one who refused to visit." She quipped playfully.

I smacked her behind before grabbing my forgotten overnight bags, following her to the parking garage. "No one told you to move to Tokyo."

She chuckled, flipping her long seashell adorned braids to drape down her back. I watched her intently as we walked quietly to her car, eyeing the way her thick hips and bottom moved in those acid washed denim jeans. Her white hooded sweatshirt hugged her voluptuous curves like a satin glove that I greatly appreciated. I began to imagine what I would like to do to those ample curves once I got her alone. As if she could read my mind, she stopped abruptly at her parked truck, signaling with a slight nod for me to put my bags in the truck. I watched her unlock the car and get in the backseat.

I could barely close the door properly before I felt her lips graze against mine, her hands roaming against the valleys of my toned stomach and firm muscles of my thighs. The sweat pants I wore were loose enough to where I did not need uncomfortably constricted with my growing erection but it also gave her a glimpse of my unashamed growing manhood. I brought her closer to me, snaking my hands underneath her sweatshirt to tweak the swollen buds of her nipples.

She pulled away. "You know it makes me uncomfortable for you to do that." She spoke softly, trying to move my hands away from her.

I ignored her, kissing her neck forcefully, grabbing her from behind to mesh her further against my arousal. "I told you before and I will tell you again, you are beautiful."

I didn't give her an opportunity to respond before I hauled her onto my lap, earning a loud squeak. She moaned as the newfound friction of her heat against my erection excited her. Before she could object, I lifted her sweatshirt over her head to expose her lace caged breasts. She attempted to shield herself but I held her arms against her sides with a lengthy kiss, snaking my fingers against the skin of her sides.

"Phil!" She berated. "I can't have you see me like this!"

"I love every curve of your beautiful, gorgeous body, Kenya." I whispered. I listed the mounds of her breasts before cupping them to bring them to my awaiting mouth. "Let me show you."

She squirmed in delight, trailing her manicured hands against my thighs, brushing against my now cast-iron rod.

"Condom?" She moaned. I notioned to my pocket. She settled on s small bulge, pulling out my prescription pain pills. I freaked, snatching them away. I watched her expression read into a knowing one. "Phil…"

"Don't." I dismissed, grabbing the forgotten condom from my other pocket. I handed her the gold foil package.

She bit her bottom lip. "I thought you promised to stop, Phil. First it was the steroids and now the opioids after your injury?"

I rolled my eyes. "Kenya, stop."

"No!" She barked, getting off my lap. She moved next to me, silently studying me. "Talk to me."

"I'd rather be fucking you." I spoke, somewhat annoyed. I silently swore, feeling my hardness ebb. "Just drop it. It's not even that serious."

"You are such a liar, Phil DeVille. Have you not learned from watching your sister almost lose her life to drug dependency?"

"Kenya…" my voice served as a warning. Talking about Lil was a soft spot for sure. "Stop while you are ahead."

"Phil, your sister was unconscious for weeks. You were shaken up and broken because you felt you would lose her. You watched your family fall to pieces!"

"Kenya, STOP!" I roared. I felt myself punch the headrest in front of me out of frustration before whirling out her car, slamming the passenger door.

I heard her yell out my name as I sauntered off. I flipped her off and jetted to the nearest exit I could find that led me to the infamous Japanese bullet trains. I needed to get out of there and get some air. I knew her address and where she lived. I did not know where that stood in proximity to the airport but worse case scenario I would hail a cab to her place. I just couldn't have that conversation right now and Kenya didn't know when to let shit go.

I pulled out my Demerol, popping the cap to grab two. I noticed I was running low and would need to sneak another prescription under Chuckie's signature to the pharmacy. Chuckie had no idea I knew his information or that I got pretty decent in mimicking signatures thanks to Lil and I often signing our bad report card grades under our "mother's" name. No one was worried about Phil DeVille anyway. Precious Lillian was on their mind and in their prayers. After my injury, my chances at a professional soccer career went down the drain along with any interest from the very people I figured cared for me. If only Lil really knew why I was mom's "favorite".

I rode the train until I found myself downtown, stumbling into a bar catered to tourists with overpriced drinks. I didn't mind though. I just needed to get a few drinks in me. I hit back four beers and a few shots of tequila courtesy of this sexy Japanese girl that caught my eye when I first entered. We locked glances before she silently invited me to the back of the bar near the restrooms. Against my better judgement, I followed her and found myself getting sucked off in the women's restroom.

I had ten missed calls and a slew of text messages from Kenya to where the constant vibration of my phone began to greatly annoy me. I turned it off and found myself returning the favor to the leggy Japanese girl against the restroom wall. For a split second, she reminded me of Kimi- my first crush.

It was close to midnight when I stumbled to Kenya's apartment, knocking loudly while lamely holding a bouquet roses. She swung the door open, she wearing an oversized grey t-shirt and flannel low cut sleep shorts. She studied me, clearly pissed but not oblivious to the fact I was off my ass.

"Flowers?" She questioned, crossing her arms across her chest.

"I got a blowjob from some Asian chick and returned the favor. Sorry." I held out the flowers, struggling to maintain focus and balance.

She clenched her jaw, biting back a tongue lashing. Instead, she opted to pulling me into her apartment, pushing me into the couch. I crashed against her faux fur and sequin pillows, grateful for their softness to break my fall. She snatched the roses, throwing them to the ground in anger before turning off the living room lights, storming off into her bedroom. I watched her violently slam the door and leave me in darkness.

I would deal with her tomorrow, for now I had to make the room stop spinning. Grabbing the woven throw draped across her sofa, I wrapped myself in it's warmth.

Everything faded to black.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter theme song: "The Way I Am" by: Charlie Puth**

 **Phil**

" _How does this feel, Phillip?"_

 _I winced in pain, grimacing with every centimeter he pushed my leg further against my torso. He wasn't forcing it all but definitely wasn't exactly gentle either. He began to bend my knee to test the fluidity of my swollen tendons. I braced myself against the arm rests of the sofa, biting my bottom lip to refrain from cursing in front of my folks._

 _Fuck this hurts!_

" _Feel any pain?"_

" _Not much…" I lied. "I'm fine."_

 _My physical therapist glanced at me, forcing an encouraging smile. He placed my leg down, writing something down in the small notepad he carried in his pocket. "You are making tremendous progress, Phil, but you aren't cleared yet. I can tell it is sore in a few major areas because your joints don't move like they should when put under pressure."_

" _So what does that mean?" My mother asked, looking concerned. "How bad is his injury for his soccer career?"_

" _With all due respect ma'am, Phillip playing soccer right now is the least of your worries. We are thankful he can walk without having major surgery."_

" _But he can still get scouted and play though, right?"_

 _My therapist paused, mulling over his next words carefully. He apologetically looked at me. "I don't think so, honestly. Phillip had a pretty bad ACL injury and meniscus tear that isn't healing like it should."_

 _Hearing him say that got my blood boiling all over again. Just thinking of that day pisses me of to where I want to find that forward from the other team and beat his face in. He did a low-down, dirty move by sweeping me illegally during a play and causing me to lose my footing against the full extension of my leg. I knew my injury was bad when I saw my leg had bent upward and I couldn't move it anymore._

 _I watched the stadium full of my fans and the scouts from various teams stand to full height in horror as they watched me writhe in pain. My mom was the first one to rush the field, knocking down security and my coach with ease. I fought back the tears as my adrenaline began to simmer and the forgotten pain became more prominent._

" _Is it bad?" I heard her ask, holding my hand as the EMT's came rushing to the field._

" _He might be out the rest of the season, ma'am." My coach said in between words of encouragement to me as I was lifted onto a stretcher._

" _He has scouts from professional teams here! Houston Dash, Richmond Kickers, San Jose Quakes! He won't be better by next game!?"_

" _I definitely doubt it."_

"Wake your ass up!"

I felt freezing cold water hit my face that sent volts of lightning through my veins. I sprang up, gasping for air as I regained consciousness to find a half naked Kenya holding an empty saucepan starting at me as if she could kill me.

"What the hell was that!?" I grabbed my shirt I had taken off in the middle of the night to wipe my face.

"You really thought coming to my house with flowers after oral sex with some Japanese woman was going to get you a good morning!?" She huffed, throwing the pot against the wall. "You thought wrong, DeVille!"

I put up my hands in surrender, carefully navigating how to best handle the breathing dragon before me. I could tell she was hurting and it was my fault. I didn't mean to do what I did last night. The mixture of alcohol and those strong meds made me feel like I was weightless with limited judgement.

"Kenya, calm down please."

"Calm down? CALM DOWN!?"

"Please," I begged again, this time slowly standing. "Let me explain."

"No!" She cut me off, pushing me with as much force as she could muster. "Explain that your flight home leaves at six and it's close to four!"

"It's what?" I asked, unsure if I heard right. I glanced at my watch and cursed myself to sleeping all day.

I watched her roll her eyes. "It's almost four in the afternoon. You slept all damn day." She barked angrily. She spun on her heel, storming into the kitchen and started throwing glass cups and silverware in my direction. She started screaming and calling me every name in the book.

I needed to diffuse this situation and quick before the police were called and I was not trying to go to Japanese prison. "Kenya!" I roared. "Stop!"

I lunged towards her and snatched a mug out her hand, shoving her into a corner and pinning her petite frame to the countertop. She attempted to wiggle out my grasp, even going as far as trying to bite me but I was much stronger than her.

"Stop." I kissed her gently. She fought me with the strength of three men but soon wore herself out, softening against my touch. I kissed her again,deeper. "Please. Stop."

"How could you?" Her voice began to quake, she fighting back tears.

"I'm sorry." I whispered, kissing her again. I felt her body stiffen slightly to my touch, but eventually soften. "I wasn't thinking, I wasn't in my right mind."

"Were you high?" She whispered. I reluctantly nodded. "Phil…why?"

I kissed her, this time with passion. I watched her fingers glide effortlessly into my hair as I snaked my arms around her plump waist. She moaned against me and shivered slightly when I began nibbling on the soft spot of her ear. She began to say something but stopped when I surprised her by picking her up to place her atop cool stone of her kitchenette counter.

"Phil."

I ignored her and found my fingers twirling along the thin fabric of her lounge shorts. Kissing her neck, I felt her attempt to push me away but failed miserably with the soft thud of her clothing hitting the lanolin floor. She said my name again, blushing through the copper kiss of her cheeks as I marveled at her exposed femininity.

"I'm sorry." I repeated, dropping to my knees.

That was four hours ago and thankfully Kenya forgives me. When I left her apartment, she was peacefully asleep on the mound of pillows and comforters that somehow found their way onto the kitchen floor. I decided to go grab some takeout since our little fight turned sex session left no time or energy to cook. I had a craving for sushi anyway and wanted to see what the excitement was about over dead fish.

I found some cheap sushi take out near a convenience store a few blocks from Kenya's apartment. It happened to be next to an all-night pharmacy and I stood at the entrance for an hour contemplating. I thumbed my prescription Dermerol and for a moment, struggled to part ways. There was no way I knew I wasn't addicted at this point, but I also knew what I was doing was not healthy. What turned to pain relief to my career blowing injury turned into a classes affair between me and opioid dependency.

My doctor took me off them months ago when I began to shows signs of addiction but having friends that were doctors and underground pharmaceutical dealers had its perks. I told myself I could quit anytime but I knew it was bullshit the moment I said it.

Reaching into my pants pocket, I grabbed the transparent tube and thumbed the nearly empty container. Maybe Kenya was right. Maybe it was time I let this go and seek help…

"Devil DeVille!?" I whirled around at the sound of my old nickname. It coursed through my veins like liquid fire. "Whoa! It's really you man!"

I grinned, shaking the extended gloved hand of the middle-aged Japanese man. "Hi. No one has called me that in a long time, man."

"I am a huge fan!" He beamed with pride. "I used to watch your games on the big screen before I moved back home in Hiroshima to be with family. You were quite the rockstar!"

I felt that familiar sense of pride begin to swell inside of me. I don't brag- much- but I was damn good in my prime. I was set to be he youngest footballer to be drafted in this decade.

"Thank you." I replied humbly. "I'm afraid I don't play much anymore."

He shook his head in dissapproval. "I know. I saw the game that day your soccer career plummeted. Broke all our hearts to see so much talent and potential go to waste in a blink of an eye."

There goes that familiar pain…

I forced a small smile. "Nah, it's ok. There will be more opportunities. I been getting back on the field practicing. I'm hoping to join a junior league team until I get back to my glory days."

I watched the man smile warmly. "Coming back from a double whammy like what you experienced is rare, my boy. But if you think you can bring back Devil DeVille, I'm all for it!"

That familiar pain brings shame…

He gave me a light hug and I gave my autograph on a bag of cheese puffs before we parted ways. I made sure he was out of eyesight before I rushed into the pharmacy. My heart was racing as my knees buckled when I approached the counter, handing the pharmacist my prescription to refill. She took a quick look at me before telling me to wait a few minutes while she prepared it.

I dug my nails into my palms to keep myself from punching a wall or something. As great as it felt to relive my glory days for a split second with a fan, I was hauntingly reminded of my injury and how it ruined my career before it had a chance to begin. My mother was furious after that and had no issue showing her disappointment every chance she could.

" _Howard, why did we have screwed up children!?"_

" _Dearest…" he began, "that is not very nice. Please don't speak I'll in front of the children."_

 _She sucked her teeth is disgust. "They aren't babies anymore, Howard. They are teens, teenagers that deserve to know the truth."_

 _I watched Lil remain silent on the sofa, flipping through commercials as she fought back tears. I watched her hug her swollen, pregnant belly gently. I glanced at my cast and the infinite amount of signatures written on it._

" _One of our kids is having bastard twins and the other just lost all chances of going pro in professional soccer!"_

" _Dearest…"_

"Hey!"

I stopped staring blankly at abottle of antacid, glancing up. "Sorry, what did you say?"

"I said, your prescription is ready." she mumbled something in Japanese before walking behind a beaded curtain. I put a few crisp bills on the counter before hurrying out the front door and swallowing three this time.

Before I knew it, I felt my body slowly leave me as I became a floating being that stumbled inside the convenience store again but this time for beer and cookies. I cute Australian woman offered to buy e a drink in exchange for my number and against my better judgement, I gave it to her and soon enough, had a fistful of her hair.

I wasn't returning the favor this time though.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter theme song: "Heaven": Julia Micheals**

 **Kenya**

 _No need to imagine._

 _All good boys go to heaven but bad boys bring heaven to you_

"Ma'am, more water?"

I shook my head and continued reading the magazine I purchased on a whim at the airport. I glanced at my watch and noticed the time. Phil's flight should have landed back in Michigan hours ago and I cursed myself for even giving him my mental space and energy after his latest misstep. I wouldn't know though, since I blocked him contacting me in any way possible. Closing my eyes, I gathered my thoughts with a shot of sake and good ol' American whiskey. Damn him for making me feel this way.

I felt the burn of the whiskey hit my throat like fire as the sake slide down nice and slow. They reminded me of just how different Phil and I were, yet we complimented each other so well.

 _"Kenya, let me in...please."_

 _I clutched the diamond pendant on the necklace he gave me last night. It wasn't a proposal or an engagement ring, but damn well felt like it. I felt my fingers grow numb as I held onto the coiled gold strand tightly, the bulbs of my fingers growing pale. I hadn't even noticed I began crying._

 _He surprised me with it right before he told me how he wanted to marry me. He strode into my apartment in the natal hours of twilight. He looked so debonair in his Italian jacket, French sunglasses, and English tracksuit that I didn't notice the faint smell of perfume on his collar. He embraced me in a light kiss before bringing some stuffed bear he had hidden behind his back to the forefront with a little note nestled in the crest of it's paws. It read:_

 _' Till the End of Time'- Phil_

 _He pulled out a velvet box with my pendant gently tucked in the epicenter. It wasn't a proposal but damn near could have been one the way I cried and reacted- perfume damned to hell. He made gentle, passionate love to me on the fur rug of my bedroom floor next before I fell asleep to his heartbeat._

 _I allowed a final tear to stain my face before snatching the pendant from my neck. I threw it somewhere, anywhere, and wasn't concerned if I ever would or wanted to find it. This wasn't the first time he made a "mistake" but it sure as hell would be the last...at least with me._

 _It grew silent after a while, the sound of the click of my door closing echoing softly. He was gone. I waited a few moments to see if he was really left before reemerging from my bathroom. I glanced around my apartment, noticing all of his belongings were gone. I noticed a handwritten note on the kitchen counter addressed to me in his handwriting. I didn't bother reading it. It was filled with broken promises that would pacify me until he decided to drug himself again instead of facing reality. Empty truths. More lies. He wasn't going to stop, I don't think he knows how._

 _My nails gently rapped against the opening of the letter, ultimately my decision to tear and toss it altogether reigning supreme. He was reckless with my heart. He was reckless with my feelings. Most importantly, he is being reckless with his life by staying addicted to those pills and the euphoria that followed them. It was like he didn't know how to be himself anymore. Like he didn't know how to be Phil without the warmth of drugs. The sex be found only intensifies his sensation._

 _I guess this is my fault though. I made too many excuses for Phil when I should have held him more accountable. I should have known his behavior would end up like this considering how his inner-circle handles their emotional and mental traumas. Sex and drugs. All that's left is Rock n Roll. I guess I can be the one to provide that one._

"You ready?" my friend Gypsy asked. She came running with her guitar case in those ridiculously high metallic boots that made her look like a futuristic stripper. Gypsy was also my guitarist and a damn good one at that.

My phone vibrated. It was Shino, my Japanese "lover" I called whenever Phil and I were on a break. Except this time, there was no coming back from this one. I rolled my eyes at his last message professing his love for me.

"Yeah." I murmured, responding to Shino's text with a time to meet me at my house after my show. "Just loosening up before the set."

She gave me a knowing look, simply nodding before taking a seat beside me. "You alright?"

"Yeah, why?"

She shrugged. "I know you can be a bit of a recluse and considering how you are going through a breakup, I figured you would want a friend to listen."

I took another shot, this time just straight whiskey. I was beginning to feel that familiar burning that calmed me. "No, just a face to ride tonight will be fine." I watched her sputter on her next drink.

"Has he called?" She whispered. I glanced at her with a solemn look.

"I don't know. He is blocked."

I watched her search over her words carefully. "Do you think this is really over?"

I paused, mulling over her question. I laughed at myself. I heard what my grandmother always told me as a young girl:

" _A man will only do what you allow"._

She was a wise woman, twice divorced, and a strong woman born and raised in southern Mississippi that raised three kids alone when the men in her life decided to jump ship when it got too hard.

I was young, no more than seven when she said those words to me. I remember like it was yesterday, when it came for my annual summer visit to her beautiful plantation home in Biloxi, Mississippi.

She was the only land owner in our family and was damn proud of it. As a lighter-skinned Black woman, she used her privilege of "passing" to buy property in the deep south in order to put real estate in the family name. All the grandkids were required to come down every summer in order to be put on the deed. It brought the family closer and helped us understand the importance of her life decisions.

She always made this fresh peach tea with the peaches she grew in her backyard. Whenever my momma wasn't looking, she spiked mine with bourbon because I needed it to become a "real woman".

 _A man will do only what you allow._

She told me to hold my standards higher than a man's poured drink. I never realized what that meant until now.

"Yes." I stood, fluffing my hair. I had my thick box braids in two ponytails with pink, green, and purple dyed ends. I smoothed the lines of my red, white, and blue lace leotard and tulle skirt, sliding on my yellow block heels. I grabbed the fire engine red lipstick on my vanity and applied one last layer, fixing my mascara.

I glanced at myself in the mirror and saw I truly did look like a voluptuous, chocolate skinned anime character. Surprisingly enough, Japan and all of Asia loved it. It was a shock to my record label, even to me that I was accepted into mainstream media and received exceedingly well. Being relatively new to music myself, let alone Japanese/Korean pop music, and my label being a start-up, it was a huge gamble on both our ends. It paid off in abundance.

I initially moved out here to Tokyo to study and teach English. Many foreigners taking this route to get international experience and travel all in one. I was not an exception but also unsure of what my life was going to be like after highschool. I didn't have any exact idea and like many young adults, I figured college and getting a "respectable" degree would all be worth it. Who would have thought I would trade in my chalkboard for a keyboard and a microphone.

Phil helped me get through it all. He was my cheerleader when I didn't even feel like motivating myself. He didn't care for the idea of me leaving for Japan but saw how much I flourished personally and professionally. He became my biggest supporter of both my teaching career and me getting into the music industry. I thought he would feel a certain way with my growing popularity but ended up loving it just as much as I did.

When I met Phil, he was on his way to becoming a professional soccer player. He was being scouted by numerous professional, big league teams. "Devil DeVille" was his name all round town, he and his friends getting anything and everything free with a simple smile and an autograph. Every girl in our city wanted to be the lucky one on his arm, our local "superstar".

I met him one night out at a local diner, Sally's. He often ate there after a big game and a heavy crowd always followed. I should have known he would have come by that evening seeing as how there was a line around the block when I arrived at Sally's an hour before the game was over. The owner, Sally, always played Phil's games on the large television screens above the bar. His team won and there was a loud eruption of roaring applause and cheering. Apparently he scored the winning goal and was headed over for his usual.

I noticed him and his friends come in, Sally and a few local policemen escorting the group to their usual booth where food and drinks waited. It wasn't until the celebration was well underway when he saw me across the room. I was ordering a chocolate milkshake next to Gypsy and a few others, trying my best not to lock my brown eyes with his green ones. Gypsy nudged me with this girlish giggle that he was checking me out. I noticed him staring, scowling in response to the "white boy" looking at me like I was a piece of meat. I watched him chuckle, setting his drink down before he and his brass balls of confidence strolled up to me. He paid for my shake and asked for my name in this smooth voice that sent quakes of pleasure throughout my body. I played hard to get, sneaking in a little attitude and sass for good measure to see if it would throw him off. To my surprise, he held his own quite nicely. I found myself against the bathroom door being devoured by his expert mouth two hours later.

That was the start of our once whirlwind romance.

 _"Kenya, there is this huge after party everyone is going to. Are you coming? I hear that "Devil DeVille" guy will be there."_

 _I bit back a moan with my jacket, closing my eyes as I braced myself against the rippling tsunami of my orgasm. I closed my eyes shut, arching my back as electricity danced through my blood._

 _"Dawn is driving, btw." She knocked again. "You ok? You been in there for awhile."_

 _I panted shallow breaths, biting my tongue until I tasted the faint ting of copper as he lapped the cream that flowed from my pulsating feminine heat. I attempted to push him away but he pinned my wrists to the wall with his insanely intense masculine strength._

 _"Kenya?"_

 _My eyelids slowly fluttered open. Confetti lights clouded my vision in euphoria. I never knew I could feel so much pleasure. I watched Phil remove my thick thighs off his broad, toned shoulders to stand full height to match my gaze. He wiped the left corner of his mouth with his thumb. I was so thankful he couldn't see me blush._

 _I braced myself against the cool concrete of the wall behind me, allowing my body to stop shaking. I felt the remnants of my climax trail against my skin. Another knock. "Kenya, if you don't answer me I'm going to pick this lock and make sure you are alright. You have ten seconds before I come in there."_

 _My eyes widened in alarm of thinking Gypsy would catch me in this position. I scrambled past Phil to find my forgotten thong and my wrist wallet. My lace panty was in this ball by the sink and my wallet somehow found its way in his hands. I watched him grab a piece of gum, popping it into his mouth before briskly opening the door._

 _"Ken…" Gypsy's eyes widened. She staring directly at the athletic soccer GOD himself. "Umm..sorry, I was looking for my friend. I must have the wrong restroom."_

 _"No, she is right here." He grabbed his hooded sweatshirt from off the bathroom sink, slipping it over his head._

 _Gypsy looked between him and me, a faint tint of rose creeping against her freckled, toffee cheeks. She smiled. "I see." She looked at me, clearing her throat. "Um, will you be attending the after party?"_

 _I ran my hands across my face, attempting to keep my composure in this mortifying situation. Pushing back my hair into a curly high bun, I smiled._

 _"Yeah, just give me a second to freshen up. I'll be out in ten."_

 _Gypsy nodded, pursing her lips together in a smile. She looked at Phil. "Um…great game today."_

 _"Thank you."_

 _"I guess... I will...uh...see you at the party." She paused. "Your party, actually."_

 _He smirked. "I guess you will."_

 _I watched Phil divert his attention from Gypsy and back into my wrist wallet, grabbing my cell phone. He dialed some number before I watched his cell light up and ring inside his Jean pocket. He gave Gypsy both my cell and wallet._

 _"See you ladies at the party." He turned to me, grinning. "I'm looking forward to seeing you again."_

 _Gypsy moved aside as he rejoined a group of his teammates at his table, I overheard a few of them ask where he wandered off to and with what woman "this time". Before Gypsy could say much of anything, I raised a single finger to silence her questions as the ones inside my head ran wild like majestic stallions._

 _"This time"..._

 _Those words danced around my brain in symphony with the emotions that ached to get out._

 _Could I be anymore of a slut?_

 _I refused to be another notch on some athletes bedpost and damn sure wasn't going to a party to be the odd woman out. It was bad enough I went to a university that didn't exactly have the best track record for appealing to people of color. What I also didn't need was to be at a party as one of the only Black girls and be plus-size at that. Nope, not today, Satan._

 _Gypsy closed the women's restroom door, squealing. "Oh. My. God. Kenya, was that Phil DeVille- thee "Devil DeVille"?"_

 _I nodded, turning in the bathroom faucet to splash some water on my face. I glanced at myself in the mirror, fixing my denim jacket and aligning the hem of my polka-dot skater dress. I adjusted my sheer, black thigh-high stockings and my heels. I couldn't stop thinking about what just happened._

 _"I need ALL the details on the way to the party!" She smiled, twirling. "My best friend just snagged the the future number one draft pick and I'm about to burst like I was the one who had sex with him."_

 _"We didn't have sex." I spoke casually, grabbing my purse to exit the women's bathroom. I noticed everyone was getting ready to head to the party, a bunch of college kids all halfway drunk into oblivion as lust, hormones, and arousal clouded best judgement. I should know._

 _Gypsy dotted right behind me, beaming from ear to ear. Phil and his teammates were already in the parking lot getting into someone's expensive Tesla. Gypsy spotted Phil eyeing me as I strode past them to my car. She tried to whisper something in my ear but I didn't want to hear it._

 _"This time"..._

 _That's all I kept saying in my head as I got the confidence to keep looking forward and not turn to look at his burning gaze. I felt the heat of his tantalizing eyes on my back as Gypsy and I moved with the crowd. Except, I headed back to my dorm and not to some party where I would make yet another distasteful decision._

 _I took my out cell, deleting DeVille's number. Gypsy shouted that I was making a horrible decision but I took what she said with a grain of salt. She makes those types of choices daily and I don't make her feel bad for them. The only reason she was willing to let this one slide was become Phil happened to be famous and on the rise to athletic stardom. Had it been any other guy giving me oral sex in a bathroom, she would have her nose in the air with some lecture about my unladylike behavior._

 _I found myself dropping Gypsy at the party with the rest of our girlfriends before retiring back to my dorm. I shed my dress, stockings, shoes, and jacket by the door before taking a quick shower for bed. As much as I hated it, I kept thinking of that goddamn "Devil DeVille"- even finding myself closing my eyes as my fingertips touched my skin to envision his intertwined with mine. I imagined my lips pressed against his, his toned stomach against the softness of my ample curves as his masculine hands gripped my luscious thighs._

 _I went to sleep well that night._

 _I didn't even think I would see him again. Afterall, yesterday was the first day I actually met him in person despite us attending the same university for quite some time now. He always had personal tutors, was training in and out of the country, traveling from his sponsorships, and even having people take his place during testing due to conflicts in his schedule. I never even thought I would ever get to see let alone meet the local, homegrown star that was "Devil DeVille". He was a living myth across campus, always talked about but rarely seen unless you were in his inner circle._

 _Damn was I wrong._

 _"Oh shit," my friend, Shannon, whispered. She sipped her coffee, putting down her laptop and sending some file from her cell to the printer. " I have to go print this assignment out for DeVille."_

 _My eyes widened. I nearly choked on my bagel. "You do homework for Phil DeVille?"_

 _She nodded. "And it pays extremely well. The school has "extra help" for our star athlete since he is projected to go pro and bring in huge profit for the school." She emphasized the "extra help" with air quotes. "He comes to get the assignments to hand them personally to get the credit."_

 _"Are you headed to give it to him now?"_

 _She shook her head, walking off to the printer. "He comes to me. He is walking through the front door of the library now."_

 _I turned to see the deity himself stroll in with that million dollar smile. His dirty blonde hair was cut very low in the back minus the top where he sported a healthy, small man-bun. He donned a matching name brand hooded sweatshirt and sweatpants set with jet black sneakers- no doubt courtesy of one of his generous sponsors. His face was masked in expensive metallic aviator sunglasses, he stopping his conversation in his Bluetooth to ask the receptionist a question before locking eyes with me._

 _I turned back to my laptop quickly, pretending to be typing away at whatever the hell I was doing before he walked in. I couldn't even remember what book I was reading, let alone what the hell I was writing. I felt him near and was inwardly celebrating that I looked somewhat cute today with an all black sundress that showed a nice amount of cleavage, my curly locks in a neat, tight bun, and simple, minimal jewelry with a bold red lip._

 _Shannon rounded the corner as he approached. "Hey Phil!" She smiled, hugging him. "great game the other day! You broke your own record."_

 _He smiled, his eyes never once leaving me. I could feel their heat burn a hole through my skin. I pretended I couldn't hear them through my headphones. "Thanks, friend of yours?"_

 _Shannon tapped my shoulder, them both finally earning my attention. I faked a smile. "This is my girl, Kenya. Kenya, I would like to introduce you to the man of the hour, Phil DeVille."_

 _"We met before." He smirked. My heart sank to my stomach in fear of what he would say next. "I met her at Sally's over the weekend."_

 _Shannon beamed. "Damn! I knew I should have gone. Everyone was on social media saying how Sally's and the party afterwards were for the record books."_

 _"It definitely was." He chuckled. He bore his glare into my skin. "I remember your friend Gypsy showing up, but not you, Kenya."_

 _I chuckled nervously._

 _"Gypsy said you didn't go to the party because you weren't up for it." Shannon looked at me. "Wanna go to tonight's party? Phil always invites me to the frat house his best friend, Tommy, is part of. They are notorious for ragers."_

 _"Um…" I paused, trying to make up an excuse. "Can't. I have to feed…"_

 _"I actually won't be there tonight, Shannon." He turned to look at her. "I have a date tonight, but you are definitely still on the guest list. They know who you are."_

 _My heart skipped a beat. I watched Shannon squeak out of excitement_

 _"Is it with the rumored adult film actress everyone suspects you are dating? The tabloids are non-stop talking about you and Celia."_

 _I rolled my eyes. Now I don't feel bad at all for skipping out on the party. Celia De la Rosa Cruz Gonzalez was a Latina adult film star that was rumored to have stolen Phil's heart. She was definitely scandalous at best but certainly fit the bill of who and what should be on his arm. She was gorgeous, thin, curvy in all the right places, and racially ambiguous. I was none of those things._

 _He smirked, chuckling lowly. "No, Celia and I are friends. Besides, my mother would kill me if I brought home a porn star for holiday dinner." He paused, looking at me again. "I was actually hoping your friend, Kenya, would allow me to take her out on a proper date."_

 _Both our mouths dropped, Shannon jumping for excitement while clasping her hands over her lips. I just stood there slack jawed in awe and confusion. Me?_

 _"Me?" I pointed to myself. He nodded, walking up to me to where he was mere inches away from my lips._

 _"You haven't answered my texts or calls either."_

 _"You exchanged phone numbers!?" Shannon exclaimed. "When did this happen!?"_

 _"At Sally's." He said matter-of-factly. "Your friend is either uninterested or playing hard to get. It's a hard read considering the last time I saw her she seemed to be enjoying our company."_

 _I blushed, clearing my throat. "I can explain."_

 _He shrugged. "Please do."_

 _"You two spent time together?!"_

 _"We did." His attention never left me, he stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Two hours of great conversation and twenty minutes inside the women's bathroom. Pretty sure people heard her. Your friend wasn't exactly quiet."_

 _Shannon exclaimed loudly, earning a loud "shhh" from the receptionist. I nervously pushed a stray curl behind my ear, diverting my gaze._

 _"You two….bathroom….wait….what?!"_

 _Phil and I both ignored her. He continued. "I was hoping to see you again."_

 _"I don't want to be another notch on your bedpost, DeVille." I whispered. I turned away from him again. "That night...I really enjoyed getting to know you and the drinks got us to where things got...heavy. I don't want to think I'm special when the attraction is just lust for you."_

 _He held my hand, turning me to face him. "Why do you think I wanted to see you again?" There was a small spell of silence._

 _"I don't know." I pulled away from him. "Maybe to take things a step further than what happened between us already."_

 _"I can get any girl I want sexually, Kenya. The woman I want to get to know is right here and avoiding me."_

 _"I'm not good at this...flirting thing." I admitted. "I went into talking to you thinking you would be a self-absorbed celebrity that would buy me free drinks. I didn't think I would actually like you as a person... your attractive."_

 _He took a single step closer to me, genuinely smiling. "Then let's have dinner tonight to see if this attraction we both feel is genuine." Another step, I felt his hands grab mine. "Please."_


End file.
